I Must Have Stumbled into Something
May. 22nd, 2011 04:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eilonwyhasemuAll that happened is, yesterday the Top Six found out that their last-minute mentor would be David Cook. This was great for Josh, who's singing one of Cook's songs. (Oh, I so want it to be "Take Me as I Am"!) It's not so great for rocker Robyn, who chose Lee DeWyze's songbook, even though Cook is her idol.
"You're in deep shit," Reg announced as I walked into the mansion with Josh.
"Oh, please. All I did was take Josh for a haircut."
He looked fantastic, too. Shorter, layered, spikier, with a little blond rinse. It made his gorgeous gray eyes pop.
"Yeah, and meanwhile who's going to fetch David Cook bottled water and Cheez-Its?"
"He's here already?" Shit. Mentors usually don't get out of bed until noon. No way had mentoring sessions been scheduled this early--
Yes, way. The schedule on my iPhone said I'd missed Reg's mentoring session and--
"He's waiting for Josh," Reg added.
He was waiting for Josh in the mansion's studio. Everybody knows what David Cook looks like: black shirt with rolled-up sleeves, gelled hair, hipster glasses, sleeve tattoos. Thank goodness Josh doesn't want to mar that creamy skin of his with tattoos.
They shook hands. Josh is taller.
"Do you want Cheez-Its?" I asked.
"Damn it," said Steve the camera man. "Máire, I need you not in the shot. Could you two shake hands again?"
They shook again.
"I'm really excited about singing one of your songs," Josh said.
"Man. Just do it better than I do."
"I don't know about that."
"Let's hear what you've got."
Josh sat down at the piano. At a gesture from Steve the camera man, David Cook dropped into a chair nearby, I guess so they'd fit in the same shot. Josh poised his long, elegant fingers over the keys. He started to play--
It was not "Take Me as I Am." It was something halfway familiar, only not.
David Cook started laughing.
"What?" Josh asked.
"You can't... You didn't..."
Steve the camera man waved in their general direction. "I can't use this footage, guys!"
Cook wiped his eyes. "An acoustic ballad version of 'Kiss on the Neck'? Are you sure you want to do this?"
"You got huge moments out of doing this to songs."
"I... oh boy." To me, he added: "Is that offer for Cheez-Its still open?"
"Guys, nobody's going to be able to use this. Can't you, like, tell him to sing from his gut or something?"
"Sing from your gut or something." Cook leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "Seriously, there has to be some kind of logic to what you do to a song. There's a reason I never do Kiss on the Neck acoustic. It needs the bite of the up-tempo music to make sense."
"No, it doesn't." I love it when Josh is stubborn. "Listen to this." He ran his fingers over the keys and sang, so soulfully and beautifully: "Put on a scent with some attitude. Put on a dress with some bite."
"Dude. It sounds like 'Lady in Red.' That's not what the song's about."
"But it's beautiful!" I protested, before I could help myself. "When he says a girl can win him over with a kiss on the neck..." The new haircut showed off Josh's neck, too.
"Guys!" Steve yelled.
"Look," Cook said. He came and sat on the piano bench by Josh. "You'd be way better off with this." He played.
"That's the big power ballad on your third album," Josh said.
"Yep. Are you following the melody here?"
"It's on the radio right now."
"If we pull the chorus down here and then here, it should suit your voice fine."
Tentatively, Josh started to sing. He looked at Cook, stopped, and shook his head.
Cook played a bunch of notes that somehow launched into the melody again. "Try this." He started singing, softly. After a couple seconds, Josh's voice joined his, gliding on top of it, stumbling, soaring. Then for a moment longer than my pounding heart could count, they were both in song, lost in the music.
"Not bad," Cook said. "Now sing it again like you've really struggled for the right to say this."
They went on like that for a while. Josh's time ran out. I went to get Cook some bottled water. There weren't any Cheez-Its around, so I brought him a package of low-fat Wheat Thins, too.
When I got back to the studio, Shamere was just shaking hands with Cook. "You've already had the fun of working on one of your own songs," she was saying.
"Man, that was weird. I mean, I see covers up on Youtube, but working with somebody on how to do it... surreal."
"Didn't you think about that? People covering your songs?" Was she flirting with him? Probably not. Cook's over thirty. Still, watching the muscles on his arms when he played piano... he's not doing too bad for an old guy.
"There's day-dreaming and there's seriously thinking about it. Now, you're doing Carrie Underwood. The one about bashing in the dude's headlights?"
"Hell, no. 'Mama's Song.'"
"Why?"
"Too many people see me as the angry R&B chick. I want to soften my image while proving I have some versatility."
"You're not going to say that to Ryan Seacrest on stage, I hope." Cook has nice teeth, too. Josh has a crooked dogtooth, which I think adds charm. It's possible to be too perfect.
Shamere laughed. "I just love the song. It's a source of inspiration to me." She did her eyes all wide. "I've been a Carrie Underwood fan since birth."
"Seriously, if you don't like the song, don't do it."
"I need a big moment--"
"That's the best reason not to do a song you don't like. If you have the moment, you'll end up singing it forever."
Cook reached for the bottled water and crackers I was holding out, mouthing "thank you." He looked straight at me with such intensity, like he really saw me. Hardly anybody really sees an intern.
"I would have gotten Cheez-Its, but all I could find was Wheat Thins," I explained. "I hope they're okay. You did so much for Josh--"
"Máire," said Steve. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."
"Oh. Right."
Shamere sang for a bit. It's supposed to be a country song, I guess. It sounded all kind of urban and Motown the way she did it. Cook seemed to like it. He made some musician-sounding suggestions here and there, and then she sang the song a third time.
At the end, she looked at him like she expected him to shake his head and say no.
"That first verse, you still sound like you're acting," he said. "When you get to the part about watching your little girl grow up, that's when it sounds like it's coming from the gut."
She sat down on the piano bench, all poised and upright.
"Is it too personal to ask if you have a kid?" Cook asked. He has a way of looking at people like, it's the earth stopping. And his arms get better the more you look.
"I left her with my parents in Atlanta."
"And that's who you're thinking about."
"This is our best shot at a better life. My fans... Reg got us started reading the message boards..."
"You don't have to do that."
"They worry. A lot. Does Aliyah miss me? How am I coping without Aliyah? Do I really love her if I'm willing to leave her for all these months? Am I a good mother? Part of the deal with this song is yes, I do love my baby. Yes, I want the best for her. No, I'm not hard-hearted because I can get up on stage and smile once a week. It's my job to do that."
"You have to look self-confident and happy every minute," Cook said.
Shamere shot him a look that was halfway a sigh. "Exactly. And I feel like this big chunk of my emotional energy is spent on reassuring my fans."
"Guys!" Steve interrupted yet again. "This is touching, but nobody's going to use it."
"Our time's almost up anyway," Shamere said. "Thanks, Mr. Cook."
"You want to know the best thing you can do for yourself?"
"Sure."
"Make sure your cable subscription includes Comedy Central."
Shamere laughed at that. I would have hugged him, but she just shook hands.
"That was so great of you," I said to David Cook. "I'm Máire Soo. I wanted to get you Cheez-Its--"
"That's fine. Thanks. These are great."
"I just wanted to thank you for what you did for Josh--"
"Máire," Shamere said. "I need to go over a few things with you. Right now. Please."
"What?" I asked when the studio door was shut and we were on the other side of it in the corridor. "I'm assigned to help out here--"
"Have you noticed that you're gushing over Mr. Cook?"
"Gushing?"
"Gushing. And eyeing him like he's a chocolate cupcake."
"I just--"
"Would you be all over Jimmy Iovine with crackers?"
"He doesn't like crackers. He only likes moon pies."
"And your hanging on Josh every minute is getting embarrassing for everyone."
"Josh is special--"
"We know. Believe us, we all know. And the rest of us are wasted space compared to your precious balladeer. I'm bitchy, Robyn's arrogant, Brianna's dumb, Reg is a flip asshat, and Charlie's crass. You exude it like cheap perfume."
"I don't--"
"Do you think real PR professionals act like this?"
That was plenty from her. "I have always been completely professional," I said.
"Like when you were completely professional this morning, having everything set up for Reg's mentoring session?"
If that slip-up got back to anyone in charge, my internship was toast. I couldn't help Josh--
I couldn't explain any of this to my adviser back at Mt. SAC. Blow the opportunity of a lifetime, and I'd find myself explaining to Manpower that I have really terrific phone-answering skills.
That was when Brianna showed up, chewing--
Shamere narrowed her eyes at me.
That was when Brianna showed up. Right on time.
As I showed her in, David Cook was talking to Steve the camera man. "I know teenagers get like that, but I thought if her dad's in TV production, she'd be used to it--"
"Máire's not anyone's kid. She's just an intern. Send her on errands or whatever."
"Good idea." He'd set the low-fat Wheat Thins on a shelf without opening them.
"Here's Brianna Rodriguez," I said with all the dignity that comes from humiliation. "Brianna, here's David Cook."
He greeted her with a handshake and that same intensity of attention that he'd given me. And Shamere. And Josh. And me.
"It's great to meet you," Brianna said. "I've been torn between two Kelly Clarkson songs, and I'd like your opinion on which would work better for me."
"Sounds good. Miss Soo?" Cook gave me his full attention again. "Could you please run over to Nigel Lythgoe's office and ask if we're still on for late lunch? If it's not too much trouble."
It was not too much trouble.
I'm a professional. I do my job.
David Cook still had mentoring sessions with Robyn and with Charlie after this. It was my job to make him comfortable.
It was going to be a long morning.
TO BE CONTINUED
"You're in deep shit," Reg announced as I walked into the mansion with Josh.
"Oh, please. All I did was take Josh for a haircut."
He looked fantastic, too. Shorter, layered, spikier, with a little blond rinse. It made his gorgeous gray eyes pop.
"Yeah, and meanwhile who's going to fetch David Cook bottled water and Cheez-Its?"
"He's here already?" Shit. Mentors usually don't get out of bed until noon. No way had mentoring sessions been scheduled this early--
Yes, way. The schedule on my iPhone said I'd missed Reg's mentoring session and--
"He's waiting for Josh," Reg added.
He was waiting for Josh in the mansion's studio. Everybody knows what David Cook looks like: black shirt with rolled-up sleeves, gelled hair, hipster glasses, sleeve tattoos. Thank goodness Josh doesn't want to mar that creamy skin of his with tattoos.
They shook hands. Josh is taller.
"Do you want Cheez-Its?" I asked.
"Damn it," said Steve the camera man. "Máire, I need you not in the shot. Could you two shake hands again?"
They shook again.
"I'm really excited about singing one of your songs," Josh said.
"Man. Just do it better than I do."
"I don't know about that."
"Let's hear what you've got."
Josh sat down at the piano. At a gesture from Steve the camera man, David Cook dropped into a chair nearby, I guess so they'd fit in the same shot. Josh poised his long, elegant fingers over the keys. He started to play--
It was not "Take Me as I Am." It was something halfway familiar, only not.
David Cook started laughing.
"What?" Josh asked.
"You can't... You didn't..."
Steve the camera man waved in their general direction. "I can't use this footage, guys!"
Cook wiped his eyes. "An acoustic ballad version of 'Kiss on the Neck'? Are you sure you want to do this?"
"You got huge moments out of doing this to songs."
"I... oh boy." To me, he added: "Is that offer for Cheez-Its still open?"
"Guys, nobody's going to be able to use this. Can't you, like, tell him to sing from his gut or something?"
"Sing from your gut or something." Cook leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "Seriously, there has to be some kind of logic to what you do to a song. There's a reason I never do Kiss on the Neck acoustic. It needs the bite of the up-tempo music to make sense."
"No, it doesn't." I love it when Josh is stubborn. "Listen to this." He ran his fingers over the keys and sang, so soulfully and beautifully: "Put on a scent with some attitude. Put on a dress with some bite."
"Dude. It sounds like 'Lady in Red.' That's not what the song's about."
"But it's beautiful!" I protested, before I could help myself. "When he says a girl can win him over with a kiss on the neck..." The new haircut showed off Josh's neck, too.
"Guys!" Steve yelled.
"Look," Cook said. He came and sat on the piano bench by Josh. "You'd be way better off with this." He played.
"That's the big power ballad on your third album," Josh said.
"Yep. Are you following the melody here?"
"It's on the radio right now."
"If we pull the chorus down here and then here, it should suit your voice fine."
Tentatively, Josh started to sing. He looked at Cook, stopped, and shook his head.
Cook played a bunch of notes that somehow launched into the melody again. "Try this." He started singing, softly. After a couple seconds, Josh's voice joined his, gliding on top of it, stumbling, soaring. Then for a moment longer than my pounding heart could count, they were both in song, lost in the music.
"Not bad," Cook said. "Now sing it again like you've really struggled for the right to say this."
They went on like that for a while. Josh's time ran out. I went to get Cook some bottled water. There weren't any Cheez-Its around, so I brought him a package of low-fat Wheat Thins, too.
When I got back to the studio, Shamere was just shaking hands with Cook. "You've already had the fun of working on one of your own songs," she was saying.
"Man, that was weird. I mean, I see covers up on Youtube, but working with somebody on how to do it... surreal."
"Didn't you think about that? People covering your songs?" Was she flirting with him? Probably not. Cook's over thirty. Still, watching the muscles on his arms when he played piano... he's not doing too bad for an old guy.
"There's day-dreaming and there's seriously thinking about it. Now, you're doing Carrie Underwood. The one about bashing in the dude's headlights?"
"Hell, no. 'Mama's Song.'"
"Why?"
"Too many people see me as the angry R&B chick. I want to soften my image while proving I have some versatility."
"You're not going to say that to Ryan Seacrest on stage, I hope." Cook has nice teeth, too. Josh has a crooked dogtooth, which I think adds charm. It's possible to be too perfect.
Shamere laughed. "I just love the song. It's a source of inspiration to me." She did her eyes all wide. "I've been a Carrie Underwood fan since birth."
"Seriously, if you don't like the song, don't do it."
"I need a big moment--"
"That's the best reason not to do a song you don't like. If you have the moment, you'll end up singing it forever."
Cook reached for the bottled water and crackers I was holding out, mouthing "thank you." He looked straight at me with such intensity, like he really saw me. Hardly anybody really sees an intern.
"I would have gotten Cheez-Its, but all I could find was Wheat Thins," I explained. "I hope they're okay. You did so much for Josh--"
"Máire," said Steve. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."
"Oh. Right."
Shamere sang for a bit. It's supposed to be a country song, I guess. It sounded all kind of urban and Motown the way she did it. Cook seemed to like it. He made some musician-sounding suggestions here and there, and then she sang the song a third time.
At the end, she looked at him like she expected him to shake his head and say no.
"That first verse, you still sound like you're acting," he said. "When you get to the part about watching your little girl grow up, that's when it sounds like it's coming from the gut."
She sat down on the piano bench, all poised and upright.
"Is it too personal to ask if you have a kid?" Cook asked. He has a way of looking at people like, it's the earth stopping. And his arms get better the more you look.
"I left her with my parents in Atlanta."
"And that's who you're thinking about."
"This is our best shot at a better life. My fans... Reg got us started reading the message boards..."
"You don't have to do that."
"They worry. A lot. Does Aliyah miss me? How am I coping without Aliyah? Do I really love her if I'm willing to leave her for all these months? Am I a good mother? Part of the deal with this song is yes, I do love my baby. Yes, I want the best for her. No, I'm not hard-hearted because I can get up on stage and smile once a week. It's my job to do that."
"You have to look self-confident and happy every minute," Cook said.
Shamere shot him a look that was halfway a sigh. "Exactly. And I feel like this big chunk of my emotional energy is spent on reassuring my fans."
"Guys!" Steve interrupted yet again. "This is touching, but nobody's going to use it."
"Our time's almost up anyway," Shamere said. "Thanks, Mr. Cook."
"You want to know the best thing you can do for yourself?"
"Sure."
"Make sure your cable subscription includes Comedy Central."
Shamere laughed at that. I would have hugged him, but she just shook hands.
"That was so great of you," I said to David Cook. "I'm Máire Soo. I wanted to get you Cheez-Its--"
"That's fine. Thanks. These are great."
"I just wanted to thank you for what you did for Josh--"
"Máire," Shamere said. "I need to go over a few things with you. Right now. Please."
"What?" I asked when the studio door was shut and we were on the other side of it in the corridor. "I'm assigned to help out here--"
"Have you noticed that you're gushing over Mr. Cook?"
"Gushing?"
"Gushing. And eyeing him like he's a chocolate cupcake."
"I just--"
"Would you be all over Jimmy Iovine with crackers?"
"He doesn't like crackers. He only likes moon pies."
"And your hanging on Josh every minute is getting embarrassing for everyone."
"Josh is special--"
"We know. Believe us, we all know. And the rest of us are wasted space compared to your precious balladeer. I'm bitchy, Robyn's arrogant, Brianna's dumb, Reg is a flip asshat, and Charlie's crass. You exude it like cheap perfume."
"I don't--"
"Do you think real PR professionals act like this?"
That was plenty from her. "I have always been completely professional," I said.
"Like when you were completely professional this morning, having everything set up for Reg's mentoring session?"
If that slip-up got back to anyone in charge, my internship was toast. I couldn't help Josh--
I couldn't explain any of this to my adviser back at Mt. SAC. Blow the opportunity of a lifetime, and I'd find myself explaining to Manpower that I have really terrific phone-answering skills.
That was when Brianna showed up, chewing--
Shamere narrowed her eyes at me.
That was when Brianna showed up. Right on time.
As I showed her in, David Cook was talking to Steve the camera man. "I know teenagers get like that, but I thought if her dad's in TV production, she'd be used to it--"
"Máire's not anyone's kid. She's just an intern. Send her on errands or whatever."
"Good idea." He'd set the low-fat Wheat Thins on a shelf without opening them.
"Here's Brianna Rodriguez," I said with all the dignity that comes from humiliation. "Brianna, here's David Cook."
He greeted her with a handshake and that same intensity of attention that he'd given me. And Shamere. And Josh. And me.
"It's great to meet you," Brianna said. "I've been torn between two Kelly Clarkson songs, and I'd like your opinion on which would work better for me."
"Sounds good. Miss Soo?" Cook gave me his full attention again. "Could you please run over to Nigel Lythgoe's office and ask if we're still on for late lunch? If it's not too much trouble."
It was not too much trouble.
I'm a professional. I do my job.
David Cook still had mentoring sessions with Robyn and with Charlie after this. It was my job to make him comfortable.
It was going to be a long morning.
TO BE CONTINUED
